Face Of an Angel
by Southern Spell
Summary: I thought this must be it, I was going to be carried away by this Angel into that light and this nightmare would be over.


**A/N: I don't own Supernatural. *sigh* If only...**

That Creature had me for so long I'd lost any concept of time; keeping me alive just to feed off me until I wasted away. I'd come to terms with my eventual death, I wasn't going to be leaving this dank dark…place. I don't know where I was to be honest. But even if the Creature had left the door open, (if there was even a door) I wouldn't have the strength to walk away.

"Emily?" Deep, gruff voice had said my name, waking me.

When I opened my eyes and saw his face looking at me, I thought I'd died.

I will never forget the way he looked. I thought he was an Angel; there was such a masculine beauty in his face. A light was shining from next to us, and I thought this must be it, I was going to be carried away by this Angel into that light and this nightmare would be over.

The Angel looked toward the light. "She's alive. But for not much longer if we don't get her to a hospital."

"C'mon then, before it comes back." A voice above us said, tone much softer than the Angel's holding me. A second angel that I couldn't make out, since he was shadowed in the darkness.

I heard perfectly what they were saying but it wasn't making sense. The Angel smelt like leather and spices and sweat and something else that had to be just him with. He warm, _alive_, and I felt so safe.

The Angel looked back down at me, his breath falling on my face. "It's going to be okay. I've got you." Then he lifted me and the world went black again.

* * *

I woke up to blinding white, a soft beeping, and my husband holding my hand. It wasn't Heaven, but it wasn't a bad alternative.

I'd been missing for almost a week, brought in by two men who said to have stumbled across me in an abandoned barn. No further explanation. They vanished just as suddenly as they had appeared with me after finding out if I'd live.

Years passed and I never knew the name of my two saving angels, just the beauty of one and the gentle voice of the other. Every time I caught the scent of leather I'd remember them and the safety I'd felt with them.

* * *

The kids were in bed. My husband was watching a show about some of the greatest criminals in America. I was sitting next to him not really paying attention, as I graded test papers.

The TV said something about the undisputed greatest criminals ever were the Winchester brothers. Still, I wasn't really paying attention, focusing on the work in front of me.

"They were young." My husband muttered mostly to himself.

I glanced up with mild interest from a test and froze.

"Oh my God!" I said, covering my mouth with a hand and dropping my red pen from the other.

"What?" My husband jerked, startled.

"That's him!" I pointed at the TV screen showing mug shots of Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester.

"Who?" My husband looked at the TV with a frown.

"Dean Winchester! He's the one that saved me."

My husband didn't believe me. Especially when he told me that the Winchester brothers had been killed in a chopper explosion while in custody about four years before my incident.

I merely shook my head, shocked…

But I _knew _it had been him and maybe Sam too. No amount of facts my husband tried to tell that it wasn't them, wasn't _him,_ would make me believe otherwise. I remembered that face.

I shook my head as he stopped talking. "That's him."

"It can't be."

"You weren't there."

He stopped talking. He still suffered with guilt for not having been able to help me.

I watched fascinated as they talked about Dean and Sam Winchester. They had been blamed a list of things as long as my leg that were just so heinous and atrocious it would make you thank God they were dead.

Except…Dean Winchester was the one who had carried me out of that dark hell where that Creature had kept me.

And while it could be argued that _if _Sam and Dean were still alive then it was mostly likely that they were the ones who had been holding me captive. But I remembered the feel of teeth and claws that Creature had, and the cold skin and the rotten smell of it, and the all consuming fear I had in its presence. Then I can remember the light and Dean's face looking at me, and feel his warmth and the safety in his arms, and the smell of leather and _him._

I know there are people who'd lose sleep to find out that the Winchester brother's were still alive. But I sleep better knowing they were out there somewhere.


End file.
